


All I Want for Christmas is Naked Time

by Naoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blackmail, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Dean/Cas Secret Santa, Dean/Cas Secret Santa 2016, Doctor Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Marketing executive Dean, Mary doesn't really cook, Snow, Whiny Dean, Workaholic Dean, a lot of snow, canon--what dat?, charlie and gabe run a bakery, don't ask don't tell about him, fluffy au, it's marshmallow fluff with swearing, no John, sappy af, shhh--just go with it, when family won't leave you alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naoe/pseuds/Naoe
Summary: Prompt: All Dean wants is to spend all day naked in bed with Cas. Is that really too much to freakin' ask?When it comes to family, yes. Sometimes it really is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firefly124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly124/gifts).



> This was my second DCSS, and I was pleased at the prompts by firefly124! I hope they like it!
> 
> I am testing out present tense, which is new for me in story writing. Also, _really short chapters_! I've never done that before...
> 
> I'd like to thank stkirsch for alpha reading this for me. This is unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> As always, I'm open to constructive criticism. :) 
> 
> I hope everyone's holidays were bright!!

The truth is Dean did not want to get out of bed.  
  
After days of pulling overtime to help clients get their products' marketing out by Black Friday and then nearly drowning in the frenzy of advertisements that needed to be out by Christmas, he was pretty damn sure he was due a (naked) day in bed with his husband. Just. One. Day.  
  
Which is why it was so damn annoying to wake up to an empty bed on the morning of the 23rd of December, his first complete day off for the holidays before he had to go back to Sanders, Sanders, and Shurly for the breakneck New Year’s sales push.  
  
Maybe government workers got official days off, but rest and relaxation brought down sales. There's no time for that when Dean covets a corner office and trips to the Bahamas with his hubby. So he only has the 23-25th off, and all he wants for Christmas is to worship at the altar of his husband's glorious _naked_ body for one day.  
  
Blearily, Dean eyes the alarm clock Cas favors over relying on their phones, noting it says 910 am in red digital numbers. Groaning, he swipes a hand at Cas's side of the bed and finds it cold to the touch, meaning Cas had already deserted him much earlier.  
  
His groping hand hits something other than down comforter and flannel sheets (because Cas hates being cold and gets mean if he has to suffer it) and he automatically grasps it. He moves his bleary vision to the scrap of paper and manages to read, "Dean, Charlie called and said she needed help opening the store. I'll be home in a few hours. Cas"  
  
"Of course it would be Charlie," he grumbles, crushing the note between his fingers before making a half-assed attempt to hit the trash bin.  
  
The ball of paper doesn't even make it halfway, sailing sadly to bounce once, twice, and then under the dresser.  
   
Dean huffs and puts that on his list of things to do: remove ball of annoying paper. Cas will kill him for leaving it there like that.  
  
Yawning, Dean forces himself out of bed, stretching out his shoulders and smacking his lips sleepily. The faint scent of coffee is still in the cool air and he heads towards it eagerly, knowing Cas would never leave without having at least three cups.  
  
At the very _least_ three, since the man is a grunting zombie without enough caffeine in his system. A _cute_ grunting zombie, but no one likes their head bitten off while trying to fry eggs.

Sure enough, there's still coffee and it's still warm enough to enjoy. He grabs a mug and fills it, happily slurping the beverage like it's the antidote to a fierce poison, a poison called “go back to bed where it’s warm.”  
  
While he stands in his flannel sleep pants and t-shirt, contemplating going back to bed because he can, the front door bursts open with a cold wind that makes him shudder and grip the mug harder. He hears the door shut as Cas waddles in under the weight of two large, unwieldy cake boxes inside protective plastic bags, and himself wrapped in a dark-blue puffy down coat with faux fur lined hood, a bright blue scarf, and he has no doubt a beanie underneath the hood.  
  
His eyes sparkle with delight at seeing Dean standing at the counter and he says in his deep voice, "Good morning, Dean! Can you help me with these? I told Charlie not to put them in such large boxes but..."  
  
Dean immediately puts down his mug and takes the top box, the cardboard inexplicably floppy under the weight inside and Dean yelps as he counters the weight with his forearm before carefully depositing the box on the kitchen island.  
  
"What the hell? Did she send you off with two dozen cupcakes per box and no reinforcement?"  
  
Cas gives him a wry look as he places his own box on the counter, rubbing his gloved hand against his nose viciously. "So much better," he huffs with pleasure. "Why do noses itch the worst when you can't scratch them?"  
  
"Cuz it's all in your mind, babe," Dean murmurs, dropping a kiss on Cas's rough cheek.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Cas says, "I left you a note that Charlie needed help, right?" At Dean's nod he continues, "Well Gabriel had a flat and she didn't have anyone to man the counter until he got a new ride. It was faster for me to go lend a hand than to go get Gabe and rush back to the shop. Well, it was so busy, she didn’t pay as much attention to my order as usual."  
  
"Why didn't you wake me up? I could’ve helped out."  
  
Cas laughs as he removes his gloves, beanie, and scarf. "Because it's your first day off, and because I already owed Charlie and Gabe a favor for giving me a BIG discount on these cupcakes for the children's ward."

Dean pops open one box and gasps. “Holy shit, these are amazing!”

Cas nods smugly as he carries his coat back over to the door and hangs everything up to dry. Dean whistles low, impressed as usual with the depth of Charlie’s nerdom. Charlie had used two themes for the cupcakes: the Grinch and the Peanuts gang and their scrawny Christmas tree. 

They're gorgeously created in detail and the kids are gonna _love_ them! He almost opens the other box to check what they're decorated as when Cas says in a firm voice, "I also need to remind you that Sam is coming over in twenty minutes to drag you shopping.”

“Seriously?” Dean groans and turns to make grabby hands at Cas until he moves into his arms. Dean nuzzles his sweater’s collar, the spicy pine scent of Cas's aftershave tickling his nose, and he  murmurs petulantly, “I just wanna stay home with you and have you fuck me into the mattress until we hit China.”

Cas chuckles and runs his hands over Dean's back comfortingly. “I know, but I need to take these cupcakes over to the hospital before my shift so I couldn't have stayed, regardless."

“I thought you weren't working today?”

He’s not whining. He isn’t.

“It's only a half shift. Balthazar is taking over later. His flight from Switzerland got in late and he wanted a bit more time to recover.”

“Why can't Anna cover it? She's not working, is she?”

And, he isn’t being petulant. He isn’t a child. Seriously.

“Anna is on maternity leave, remember?”

“Aw fuck,” he grumbles against Cas’s hair, tightening his grip on him.

Cas pats Dean’s back and mildly says, “You're the one who waited until the last moment to ask for time off. That's why Sam will be here in now-fifteen minutes to drag you to the Mall.”

“What about after?”

Cas sighs and Dean is 90% sure that he’s rolled his eyes. “I'll be back from work around 3, barring any incidents; however, recall that Jo, Benny, and Karen will arrive at the airport around 5-530 pm and your mother wants us all at her house to celebrate.”

“You are the only person I know who sounds like they're using semicolons while speaking, you freak.” Dean grumbles, pushing away, but dropping a kiss on Cas’s forehead to stave off trouble. “Fine. I'll be on moose patrol.”

Cas smirks. “I'll fetch the Lafittes from the airport.”

Dean shudders. “I am so glad you're taking that thing you call a car.”

Cas pats his cheek as he walks towards the coffee machine. “You're just jealous of my Subaru’s all-wheel drive and gas mileage.”

“Never!” Is the shouted reply as Dean slams into their room to change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you get the subtle pop/nerd culture references, you're a nerd. A hot nerd with excellent taste.

Hunting for gifts is much easier than expected with a long-armed, long-legged super moose of a brother to help him snag last-minute sales. Sometimes it was like playing basketball and snagging a potential gift out from under someone's hands.

Late Christmas shopping is not for the weak. Guts of steel and morals of the Grinch were needed to take on other desperate men and evil-looking grannies looking to score cheap gifts right before the Big Day.

The grannies were seriously the worst.

They had managed to grab gifts for their significant others, their families and even each other, and had settled in for lunch at a fancy restaurant so Sam could have his locally-sourced, organically-farmed vegetarian meal while Dean ate meat. Organic, locally-and-lovingly raised meats ground into hamburger just for him, and just for the price of a T-bone steak dinner elsewhere.

He isn’t bitter about it; the burger is almost worth the cost of a massaged and praised cow that wants to be eaten.

“So R.J. is finally walking?” Dean asks as he picks the local, farm-fresh lettuce off his happy-to-be-eaten burger with tense fingers and pushes it to the side. “Sarah must be overjoyed.”

Sam watches him do it with a shake of his head and digs into his quinoa burger with gusto.

“Yeah,” he answers after swallowing, absolutely ignoring the lip curl of disgust his brother gives his perfectly healthy meal of oven-roasted organic fries, quinoa burger with black beans and red peppers on a flatbread bun, tucked in with large leaves of romaine. “He's starting to really get the hang of it.” He sighs and shakes his shoulder-length hair. “They grow up so fast.”

Dean snorts and pops a sweet potato fry in his mouth. “You shocked me with your marathon of growth spurts. You went from a scrawny twig to a treebeard.”

Sam aims a royal bitchface at him, one Dean hasn’t seen in a while, and uses his fork to spear his potatoes. “It's his first real Christmas! I want him to enjoy it.”

Dean rolls his eyes but nods. “I get it,” he says, popping another fry. “But he's like one-year old. He's not going to remember it.”

“Dean,” Sam says in his ‘you're being unreasonable’ voice, “ _We're_ going to remember it!”

Dean stares at him flatly and just chews in his direction.

“You're such a jerk,” Sam gripes as he stabs another potato with more than necessary force.

“Cuz you're such a bitch,” Dean counters, grinning at Sam with a mouth full of food.

* * *

Brotherly duty done, gifts purchased and mostly wrapped, Dean gets home at 2 pm to an empty condo.

He begins to strip down to get back into his pajamas (he didn't have anything scheduled; it's his day off!) to see if his hubby was in the mood for some naked-them time before having to deal with family all night.

He’s just gotten his interior, second-layer Henley off when his phone buzzes at him. Scowling, he picks it up.

_**Cas** : Bobby is picking them up with Ellen. I'll be home early! Keep the bed warm for me!_

“HELL YEAH!” Dean exclaims with a hoot. He’s pulling off his jeans when the phone buzzes again, and he picks it up thinking it’s Cas. “Hey babe! Couldn't wait, huh? You in those sexy doctor scrubs and lab coat?”

A snort of feminine laughter brings him stuttering to a halt.

“Holy crap, Dean! Your Dr. Sexy fetish is intense!”

Dean snaps his mouth shut and then dejectedly sighs, “Charlie.”

“Yep! ‘Tis I! And I'm calling in a favor!”

Dean eyes his bed with longing. Cas would be home soon… naked times with Cas…

As if knowing that Dean is about to whine and say no, Charlie adds, “Remember, handmaiden, I still have that vid where you got sloppy drunk and Gabe got you a lap dance with two women and a buff guy…”

Dean scowls. “I don't even remember that! And I was celebrating my birthday!” He gripes to his uncaring audience of one.

Charlie chuckles lowly. “Oh, I know you don't remember. But you didn't stop them, and you looked like you enjoyed it.” She pauses dramatically. “Cas might not like it…”

The pause lengthens between them, stretches until Dean groans and breaks. “Okay, okay, you blackmailing harridan! What do you want?”

“Kevin is out sick and I have office party cakes to deliver,” she purrs, “I know you can drive old Hagrid in the snow. I need you to deliver these cakes.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Can't you or… I dunno? Gabe? Do it?”

Charlie snorts. “Dean, if either of us could leave the store, we would. We’re swamped. Gabe only let me call you because we're just that desperate.”

“Fuck!” He grinds out, rubbing his forehead in agitation. “I just wanted to spend the day with Cas! It's my day off!”

“Well, put this towards your karma points, big boy, and help your bestie and brother-in-law out.”

“I fucking hate you,” he mutters in defeat.

She makes kissy noises and smugly replies, “No, you don't. See you in twenty, Dean!”

The phone clicks in his ear and he grumbles, “The things I do for love.”

* * *

  
The first couple of cakes were to be delivered at a nearby business complex that shared a nice warm hall between the drunken tax accountants and the totally lit lawyers. He even had had to assemble a three-tiered Christmas tree cake, the process of which had been harder than it had to be because of drunken cavorting lawyers who had not only pre-gamed, but already looked to have seriously dented the open bar.

If only he could catch Sam cavorting, he had thought, as one gangly fellow tripped over his own feet and landed in a bushy fake plant face first.

The office cheered as the guy had managed to keep his drink safe, and, as he had scrambled upright, he had looked awfully triumphant for a man who had faceplanted in front of witnesses, had a wild bloody nose dribbling out both nostrils, and had at least three phones videoing him.

Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook were going to love it.

Dean barely made it out of those places without being forced to have a drink, much less avoiding all the clingy drunken accountant women determined to plant a holiday kiss on him.

Gross. The other deliveries better not be as bad. Accountants were disturbing drunks, like they weren't sure what to make of themselves and so did what they _thought_ drunks were expected to do.

At least none of them faceplanted, though.

While Dean’s on his way back for the next two deliveries (there were six total for today and apparently a ton more for tomorrow, but he wasn't answering his damn phone tomorrow!), his phone rings. Clicking his Bluetooth (because Hagrid, the delivery van, was old), he answers, “Hello?”

“Dean,” comes the gruff, annoyed voice of his hubby, “I just got in! Where are you? Why is my bed cold?”

Dean huffs and explains the situation, blaming Charlie (but avoiding the blackmail threats).

Cas exasperatedly says, “I already went in to help this morning! I really don—hold on.” He pauses. “Your mom is calling me.”

“What? What for?!” But Cas had already switched conversations. “Damn it! What now?”

He waits as he carefully maneuvers through the streets, and just as he pulls into the shop’s driveway, Cas clicks back over with a resigned sigh.

“I'm sorry, beloved,” he says, exhaustion edging into his voice, “Mary called that she needs help with the cookies for the church. She said she's got a pile of cookies and everyone else is busy. She wants them finished before dinner so she can take them with her tomorrow morning.”

“Are you kidding?” Dean turns off the engine and glares at the gray sky. “Fucking hell, Cas! Am I even going to see you today?”

He continues to grumble angrily as he stomps inside the backdoor, “I just wanted to stay in bed with you, all naked and warm, and see if we couldn’t get the memory foam to imprint my knees!”

“Eww, Deano! God, if that’s my brother you’re talking to…”

Dean turns to find Gabe putting a large, decorated sheet cake in a box. “You better believe it’s your brother! I could be blowing him right now, but I’m here!” He shouts, as he moves the conversation to his smart phone.

From the phone comes an indignant, “Dean! What are you doing?!”

Gabe gags and rolls his eyes. “If that were anyone but my baby bro, I’d have something to add.” A smirk curls his lips and he leans in enough to ask, “But… for my family pride… tell me you choke while deep-throating…”

“GABRIEL!!” Comes the distraught cry from the phone.

Dean and Gabe snort with laughter and Dean says into the phone, “It’s okay, babe. I got your honor.” He leans towards Gabe, “I can’t even fit it in my mouth the whole way. Gotta add some fist action. How’s that?”

“Okay. Fuck you both!!” There’s a click and Dean and Gabe burst into laughter.

“No, but seriously, everyone seems to be plotting to get in our way today,” Dean mutters as he scoots past Gabe to look over the next two deliveries. “I just wanted to stay in bed with him all day. We haven’t had time to just ourselves in ages.”

Gabe chuckles. “From what I hear, it’s your schedule that’s hellish. Maybe you should cut down on the overtime?”

Dean glares at Gabe as he pulls the boxes of cupcakes and the sheet cake decorated with blue frosting and snowflakes for delivery. “I am working to make upper-level management. Once I hit the big offices, I can take longer vacations!”

Gabe shrugs. “Always been a ‘live in the moment’ guy myself. Just seems like you’re missing a lot by working towards that, Deano.”

Dean growls at him as he carefully hefts the boxes and starts back to the van. “Shut it. I just wanted ONE DAMN DAY. I didn’t think it would be too much to ask for.”

“Well, it obviously was, duh.” Gabe snipes back as he flounces back into the kitchen to Charlie’s screeching rant about leaving her alone with a storefront full of impatient pastry customers.

“Whatever,” Dean mutters, carefully putting the boxes in the van and going back for the second set of boxes to deliver for his outing. Just two more after this, and he was done.

* * *

  
It’s 530 before Dean manages to finish all the deliveries, get back home to shower, and get into non-bakery smelling clothes. Not that he minds smelling like frosting and cake in general, but after a few hours of being trapped with that aroma, he can’t stand it.

This is why when he arrives at his mom’s house, the smell of sugar cookies and frosting make him gag.

“Dean, is that you?”

His mom sounds a bit harried, and Dean unwraps himself from his winter gear as quickly as possible. “Yeah, it’s me!”

She comes out of the kitchen and drops a kiss on his cheek while drying her hands on her apron. “Thank god. I bought the mashed potato mix and a jar of gravy, and I got a meatloaf in the oven, but I’ve been working on those church cookies.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what possessed me to agree to baking them.”

“It was easier than a from-scratch cake?” Cas guesses from the kitchen table, surrounded with mounds of cookies. It’s adorable only because Cas has frosting in his hair from where he probably swiped at it and there is a smudge of blue across his right cheek.

“You, uh… got a little something right there, Cas…” Dean points at his own cheek.

Cas blinks at him with wide blue eyes and wipes his face with his fingers. “Here?”

Unfortunately for Cas, the maneuver has added more smudged frosting to his face, smearing it all the way to his ear.

“Well, no.” Dean says, holding in laughter at how cute his hubby is. “It kinda here now.”

He points to the bridge of his nose and somehow withholds a bark of laughter as Cas swipes again and a new bloom of red frosting from his hand now decorates the doctor’s nose.

At Dean's expression, however, Cas gets suspicious and squints warily. “Dean… are you playing with me?”

Dean chuckles and grabs a paper towel. “Maybe a bit, babe.”

He bends towards Cas, and his delightfully naive man squawks when Dean licks the frosting off his cheek. “What the hell, Dean! That's disgusting!”

“But tastes so good,” Dean murmurs against Cas’s ear, making him blush, while cleaning the frosting off.

“Dean Henry Winchester, you get your ass over here and stop messing with my cookie slave!”

Dean rolls his eyes so only Cas can see, and his mom snaps, “And you better not be rolling your eyes, young man, or there'll be no pie for you!”

“Alright, fine! Coming!”


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was a loud affair, with Jo and Benny’s three-year-old daughter wreaking havoc and getting away with it because she's cute as a button. With Jo’s pale hair and saucy grin, and Benny’s bright blue eyes, she got away with way too much in Dean's opinion.

Sam and his small family couldn’t make it, as they were preparing for the next day, but that was fine, as the house smelled delicious and everyone was laughing at Karen’s antics, especially the Winchester family friends, Bobby and Ellen. It didn’t help that Ellen was Karen’s grandmother, and just had a hard time saying no to the child.

When Gabriel finally showed up with his girlfriend, Kali, he had a long laugh at Cas’s disgruntled, (again) frosting-covered face before Cas was finally able to escape his cookie slave labor and grab a shower in the guestroom bath.

And although Mary hadn't made the meal from scratch, the meatloaf was delicious and everyone had a good time. Ellen had brought some cherry pie, and that was all Dean really needed, aside from a naked Cas in his bed.

(Life would be perfect if he had both, or maybe a cherry-pie covered, naked Cas in his bed…)

They even divided up into pairs and got into a game of charades that Karen and Kali won, mostly because Karen didn't understand and kept pretending to be a ballerina. No one wanted to tell her no, and the game disintegrated into storytelling catch-up.

People packed up to go home early, since December 24th was going to be busy, but everyone had wanted to see Jo and Benny sooner than later. They were only missing Sam and his, but they would see them tomorrow. The Lafittes were tired from the long trip from Louisiana, and Ellen couldn’t wait to get them home.

Exhausted from their own mostly impromptu, hellaciously busy day, the Novak-Winchesters also went home, brushed their teeth, and passed out.

* * *

  **December 24th**

Dean wakes with Cas nuzzling the back of his neck, his morning wood hard against Dean’s ass as he slowly ruts against him.  
  
"Good morning, sunshine," Dean whispers, voice gruff and heavy with sleep. "What you up to back there?"  
  
"Thought it was obvious," Cas murmurs into the curve of Dean's neck as his warm hand slithers into Dean's t-shirt and smoothes its way to his nipple, tweaking it so Dean moans.  
  
"You don't think we'll get interrupted do you?" Dean lets Cas kiss him, regardless of morning breath, and the feel of plush lips is more than enough to get him hard in his sleep pants. It helps that Cas is already gloriously naked, just like Dean likes, the deliciously warm skin just for him.

Cas shifts so he’s laying over Dean now, his knees on either side, helping him remove his shirt. They both groan as their chests meet, hot and somewhat moist from body heat and from being under the covers all night.

"I may have done something reprehensible to avoid that outcome," Cas murmurs into Dean's mouth, as their kissing becomes a contest between them, tongue against tongue.

  
" _Umph_ —tell me," Dean pants as Cas lets him breathe, moving to bite lightly down Dean's neck, paying attention his weak spot behind his ear. Dean reaches for his sleep pants to free his cock and grips Cas's too, holding their erections together in the circle of his hand. He ruts into his palm, sliding against Cas's hard cock, pre-come adding some lubrication to the friction, and Cas shudders and groans low in his throat at the sensation.  
  
"Dean..." Cas moans, pushing against Dean's hand as well, hovering over Dean so they share breath and brief kisses.  
  
"What did you do, Cas?" Dean asks again breathlessly, the thought of his uptight Cas misbehaving just doing _things_ to him.  
  
"I may—oh god—have powered down and disconnected—ah… _Dean—_ all the electronics so no one could reach us." He whispers into Dean’s ear as he nibbles the freckled shell, his voice deep and cracked with pleasure.  
  
Dean grins as he pulls Cas back to his mouth. "Oh yeah?"  
  
They kiss lazily as Dean's hand strokes them, the silken heat of sliding against each other pulling gasps and low moans from them both.

"I might've also disconnected the doorbell," he confesses with a wheeze, rolling his hips.

Dean chuckles. “Good idea,” he murmurs with a particularly hard stroke that leaves Cas breathing hard against his lips. “Y’know, I just...wanted to spend all day naked with you yesterday.” He picks up speed as Cas quakes against him, moaning his name. “Is that too much to freakin’ ask?” 

“We have until 730 tonight,” Cas gasps, as Dean’s hand started to feel like not enough and too much, “Dinner. At your brother’s.”

“Don’t talk about my brother when I’m trying to make us come,” Dean grunts, moving his hand faster. They’re both on the edge now; he can feel it in the way Cas’s breath hitches and his body trembles. The knowledge that he can bring Cas to this point, watch him come apart so easily, makes his own orgasm start to crest. He loves this man, he thinks, nipping at the plush reddened lips chanting his name like a mantra as their movement begins to be more erratic, both of them so close. 

Cas comes with a shout, spilling over Dean’s hand, lubricating the last few pulls before Dean follows him, coating their stomachs liberally. 

They pant and kiss open-mouthed, more nibbling at each other’s lips than real kisses, as they try to catch their breath.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” Dean mumbles against Cas’s scruffy jaw as he rubs against it and leaves behind butterfly kisses. 

“We have until 730,” Cas reminds him with a deep chuckle, nuzzling him back contentedly. 

“Yeah? We’d better make the most of it. Work on making that permanent dent in the memory foam.” 

They laugh and kiss some more as they clean up a bit, Dean’s t-shirt the victim of a fast scrubbing between them. They hum and cuddle, happily ready to spend the day in bed as they wanted.

 

Or at least until 730.

 

THE END


End file.
